


i met the devil in the hills last night

by whatsanaccounttoagod



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Help, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Trans Peter Parker, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2019-11-08 17:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsanaccounttoagod/pseuds/whatsanaccounttoagod
Summary: "How are you holding it together, Red?""Easy. I just shove it in a box behind three steel doors and never think about it again."ORMatt overthinks, Foggy is a drama queen (but it's justified), Karen goes into shock, Mahoney is done with everyone's shit, and Frank... is Frank.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea how long this will end up haha
> 
> title from forever//over by eden
> 
> if something else needs to be tagged please let me know thanks

Caring about people is terrifying. The knowledge that they can and  _ will _ (not speculation,  _ inevitability _ ) be used against you in every way possible? The drive to protect them at all costs? The thought that perhaps one day, you won't be good enough to save them?

"Matt?"

Matt snapped back to reality, shoving the now-opened can of worms back in the refrigerator behind about three dead-bolted steel doors in his head and throwing the keys into the void.

"You with me?" Foggy asked, completely unaware of his internal monologue. Hopefully.

"Yeah." Matt finished packing away his not-so-fun realizations and focused his attention on the matter at hand.

"For how long?"

"Uh…"

"That's about what I thought." Foggy proceeded to re-explain in excessive detail how some insurance company or another was intentionally screwing over clients who tried to file claims, and, Karen discovered, had bookkeeping that didn't line up with reported earnings. Their client, Nathan Greene, tried to claim his wife's life insurance, only to be denied and informed that the insurance policy had been cancelled a week before her sudden death. Mr. Greene, having no record of this, did a bit of investigating of his own and was attacked in his home.

Fortunately, Matt knew most of the details that Karen had not only recently informed them of (yes, Foggy, Matt  _ did _ look over the case files last night/this morning between patrolling and work,  _ thank you very much _ ), so he went back to daydreaming about every horrible thing that could possibly happen to them while doing something as seemingly safe as sitting in the makeshift office, discussing a case. Like murder cult ninjas leaping in without warning and killing them before Matt could react. Or a gang or corporation they'd helped take down deciding today was the day these lawyers met their unfortunate end. Or angry armed assassins managing to sneak up on them while Matt kept thinking about the worst things that could happen. Or a dangerous virus being released all over New York, scentless, colorless, undetectable until it's too late and they're all dead.

Of course, this being Matt's life, something terrible was bound to happen.

"Get down!" he shouted, kicking the desk up and pulling his associates down behind it for the first round of firing.

He met another vigilante, once.

_ Matt was about to knock this guy down, really. And he had it coming. No doubts about that. _

_ But a gentle  _ thwip! _ didn't catch his attention quite enough, and the next thing he knew, he was dangling from a lamppost, a wide-eyed Spider-Man staring at him, heart rate off the charts. _

_ "He's going to get away," Matt snapped, really not in the mood for that right then. _

_ Without even looking, the spider-themed vigilante shot a web backward, effectively trapping the injured man. "What are you doing here?" _

_ Matt's lip twitched in surprise. Spider-Man was  _ young.  _ "Making sure he never hurts anyone ever again?" _

_ "No, I mean- You're from Hell's Kitchen. We're a solid seven blocks into Queens." _

_ Matt hummed and gestured to the web suspending him in mid-air. "Explains why I don't recognize anything. If you don't mind?" _

_ "I- I can't. Do anything about it. It dissolves in- It dissolves in a couple hours by it- by itself." The kid was an open book, heart pounding, half from terror, half from whatever adrenaline kick he got running around and spraying people with over-glorified silly string. _

_ "Let me down," Matt growled, not pleased with this turn of events. _

_ The spider squeaked, "I'll go home and get it right now, sir!" _

_ Of course, upon his return, he just had to get a knife thrown at him. Or ten. _

_ "Just like the simulations!" the spiderling yelled, chucking the bottle of whatever at Matt and probably hoping beyond hope that he could get himself free in time to save the kid's ass. _

_ Or maybe not. Vigilantes tend to toe the line between self-sacrificial and suicidal. _

_ So Matt ended up spraying the chemicals on the silly string, falling fourteen feet (thankfully landing on  _ his _ feet), and stopping this literal child from dying. _

_ At which point the spider-kid decided they both needed a break and narrated his entire collection of memes upon realizing Matt couldn't see very well through the mask. _

_ Spider-Man paused on one, asking, "Have you seen Star Wars?" _

_ Matt shrugged. Listening to it counted, right? "Basically." _

_ "So, there's a stormtrooper running, and the image caption says- _

"Just like the simulations," Matt muttered, kicking a gun out of someone's hand.

At some point, Karen had drawn her gun, though she was currently using it as more of a club than anything. Then again, she only had six bullets before she'd be defenseless. Foggy had summoned his softball training and was currently swinging around one of Matt's spare canes (no, he did  _ not _ lose one every other day, thank you very much) and hoping for the best.

Karen fired one shot. The scent of blood permeated the room, and the  _ BANG! _ echoed through his ears, assaulting and distorting Matt's senses until he could barely see, or what passed for it.

"Barely." Not "not at all."

He took one, two, five (? what did it matter) punches before dodging a knife he wouldn't have noticed if not for the sharp cut of the air near his throat.

One down. Two. Seven. Okay, now it's just getting ridiculous; who hires  _ thirty-one _ people to take down  _ three? _

A ridiculous amount, but not enough to take any of them out.

Foggy, out of adrenaline for the year, figured that was a great time to pass the fuck out because that was  _ exactly _ what everyone needed right now.

Matt tossed his phone on the desk (Karen's had been smashed or died at some point in the fight, if the lack of electronic buzzing and whirring from her purse were any indication) and said, "Hey, Google. Call Mahoney."

Since dialing a phone number's a thing phones can do in modern times that a terrified Karen on the verge of a mental breakdown cannot do. (Okay, she  _ could, _ but Matt wasn't about to ask her to with the way she was shaking.)

_ "Mahoney." _

"Hello, I'm Matt Murdock-"

_ "Great!" _ Mahoney sighed on the other end. _ "Did Nelson put you up to this? Or your friend in the mask?" _

Karen chose that time to mutter to herself, "We got attacked," and giggle uncontrollably.

_ "Page?" _

"We got attacked," Matt repeated. "Foggy's passed out-"

_ "Oh, fuck me." _

"-Karen's in shock-"

_ "Yeah, and I suppose you're all peachy-keen?" _

"No one's dead, and that's better than it could be. These guys'll wake up soon, so if you don't mind-"

_ "How did- who- wh- Do I want to know?" _

"No," Matt chirped way too cheerfully.

_ "I'm on my way." _

* * *

 

Frank had appeared at some point. You know, being oddly attached to Karen and everything, he was to be expected.

Foggy had taken enough hits to break some ribs and puncture a lung, and Karen was released after a short check-up with some nasty bruises, but overall intact. She and Matt had glued themselves to Foggy's side, and Frank was just along for the ride.

"She asleep?" Frank whispered under his breath.

"Yeah."

Fabric scraped against plastic. "How are you holding it together, Red?"

"Easy. I just shove it in a box behind three steel doors and never think about it again."

He snorted. "There's no way that's healthy."

Matt tried for a smile, but probably just looked unbalanced. "So I've been told."

The relative quiet wasn't as stifling this time around.

"Did you get checked out, Red?"

"No." He shifted, blocking the CALL button from Frank. "No doctors."

"What's with you and doctors?"

Matt hummed. Frank took that as a good enough answer and turned back to Karen.

Honestly, it wasn't doctors that made him hesitate on the steps of the hospital or beg (well, as much as Daredevil  _ begged _ ) someone not to call an ambulance for him. It wasn't their faults, you know? And he knew plenty of good doctors. Okay, maybe he meant one good nurse, but the doctors here were nice enough.

He just needed to block out the... however-long-it-was he spent half-strapped to a hospital bed under the guise of healing, the beeping machines and buzzing lights and  _ people, _ the wailing and begging and  _ hurting _ , but those were almost nothing compared to how soft,  _ resigned _ their voices became when they finally accepted their fates or the fates of their loved ones. The scent of bleach and plastic and death permeating the entire building, clinging to the ones lucky enough to get out alive. The scratchy feeling of the hospital gown, the sticky, plastic-like bed, and-

"Red? You here?"

And he could hear it all,  _ feel _ it all again, the thrumming of  _ the fucking Punisher's voice _ like nails against a chalkboard-

And great, here he was, overthinking again, which is how he got into this in the first place.

At some point, Frank had moved closer, or maybe that was someone else,  _ damn it _ , why wouldn't Matt's senses  _ focus _ -

"Red?" The whisper grated against his ears, though (thank God) less than before. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he murmured, though it came out as more of a groan.

"Anything help?"

"Shut up."

Frank snorted again and complied.

A nurse came in a few minutes later to check Foggy's IVs, and she may as well have yelled for how Matt heard her. "Is he okay?"

Frank tried to quietly-yet-aggressively shush her by thumping a finger against his mouth, if the rapid  _ tmptmptmptmptmp _ was any indication, but ended up confusing her more. He got up, walked over, and whispered as quietly as he could, "You got a quiet room?"

"Yeah," she whispered back, "if he wants."

Matt wasn't prone to full-on begging, and he wasn't even a fan of charity (someone else probably needs the room more than he does), but he nodded anyway, startling when callouses rubbed against his offered arm instead of smooth skin.

"C'mon, Red. Let's get ya settled down, huh?"

Two hellish minutes passed, the hustle and bustle of the hospital screaming in his ears, his nose, his mind. A squeaky cart made him flinch right into another cart, the cold burning so badly he crashed right into Frank. He must have figured this was a bad time to just shove the blind man away and instead steadied him before guiding him forward again.

The noise began to fade after they got in an elevator, and when they got to the quiet room, it was at least… manageable. The hospital scent was still overpowering, and Frank and the nurse's heartbeats sounded like someone trying to break down a steel wall with a log, but at least Matt could  _ think _ .

"It's not soundproof, but I hope it's better," she whispered.

A whoosh of air indicated Frank's nod, and he moved to follow the nurse out before Matt caught his hand again. "Stay," he whispered before he could stop himself.

Frank probably gave him a look akin to  _ What the fuck, Red? _ but sat down anyway.

Matt counted the minutes by the incessant beating of Frank's heart (92 beats per minute; a bit fast for him, but reasonable if you factored in how awkward this must be) he sighed and flopped backward onto the bed that didn't feel quite as sticky, didn't sound quite as loud as when he'd first sat on it.

"You okay?" Frank whispered.

"Yeah," Matt said at a normal human volume, testing the waters. Loud, but not unbearable. Good. "Yeah."

"What happened?"

He breathed out half a chuckle. "Guess I don't have it in the box quite well enough."

"Does it have to do with the no-doctors thing?"

Matt said, "No." You know, like a liar.

Frank huffed in amusement. "For a human lie detector, you're awfully bad at lying."

"That assumes that one, I'm human, and two, I'm lying."

He hesitated, probably weighing his options, before asking, "Why wouldn't you be human?"

Matt internally cursed his inability to properly joke and decided,  _ Fuck it. He's shared his life story with me. May as well return the favor. _

"My grandmother said, 'Watch out for them Murdock boys, they've got the devil in 'em.' And I didn't know what she meant until I saw him in my dad in the ring. He'd get- He'd get this look on his face, and stalk forward, real slow, deliberate, and whoever he was fighting? Well, that's when he'd win. He could come home with injuries that'd kill anyone else, and smile, and ask me to patch him up. And sometimes, I feel him, too. I don't- I don't  _ like _ what he wants me to do, but I  _ have _ to. So I do it to the scum of the earth, the, uh, the father who goes into his daughter's room at night, the person who thinks selling people against their will is  _ fun _ -" Matt breathed. "But he's still there, calling for blood, won't let me rest until he's gotten it. So I'll go on, keeping- pretending he's buried under that building with the rest of me, knowing I'm just one bad day from losing myself, and- and I can't end it myself, no one else can end it. Does that make sense?"

"One bad day, huh?" Frank tapped his fingers against the bed. "All it takes for any of us, Red. Look, or smell, or whatever at me."

"But you're good, Frank, or you're trying. Call me naive, but most people are. I- I can't. I can't be. I play hero, but in the end, I'm just… I'm fighting for the wrong reasons."

"You're fighting for your city."

"I'm fighting because I like it in the worst possible way."

"You like fighting for your city." Frank tapped the bed again. "You ain't a bad person for liking to hurt bad people. Hell, I don't think there's more than a few decent people in the world who haven't at least thought about hurting the shitty ones."

Matt tilted his head. The lack of buzzing lights and thin glass probably meant Frank couldn't see him very well. "Maybe."

"I'm not saying you're perfect, Red. Just sayin' none of us are. But you know wrong from right, haven't lost that, yet. At least you're pushin' for the change you wanna see in the world instead of sitting on your ass in fear."

And on that slightly deeper than expected note, Matt hummed and walked right into the doorframe.

"Shit, I forgot your cane in Nelson's room. Want me to get it, or-?"

"I'll go down with you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ugh, feelings.
> 
> Wait, that was a Matt thing to say, and if Matt would do it, it's probably not a good thing to do."
> 
> OR
> 
> Foggy wakes up. Matt gains a mentee. Karen plays mediator. Frank isn't a horrible person.
> 
> And Peter just wants to share his sandwich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually wrote the last part of this first without thinking and rhen went "lol this probs wont come until like chapter 6" and then realized matt is probably good enough at compartmentalizing that hes just shoved his feelings in the box and thrown it into the void too until peter brought it up *dabs as i project once again*
> 
> ALL NAMES AND COMPANIES REFERENCED ARE FICTITIOUS AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL-LIFE COMPANIES IS MERELY COINCIDENTAL. i dont know if theres a freedom insurance but it sounds legit enough so if there is this is not them

Foggy, now awakened from his less-than-peaceful sleep, glared at the odd one out in the room.

Said odd one out kept throwing glances at Karen and Matt, who pretended not to notice.

"So what's he doing here?" Foggy muttered, nodding toward the Punisher.

"Moral support," Karen said at the same moment Matt said, "Backup."

Foggy squinted suspiciously at Castle, who raised his hands placatingly. "Heard what happened and thought I'd drop in."

Matt stepped between the conflicting parties and announced, "Freedom Insurance hired them. Indirectly, of course, but the timing lines up, and it was one of their employees who arranged the hit." He paused as a cart rattled by outside. "That doesn't explain why they hired so many."

"Unless they expected our friend in the mask to step in," Karen noted.

Foggy glared at Matt.

He turned, smiled a bit, and burst out laughing.

"Uh, Matt?" Karen tapped the chair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he wheezed between chuckles.

Castle gently sat the hysterical man on the bed before he fell on it. "This happens sometimes."

Both of Matt's friends raised an eyebrow. He managed to pull himself together enough to breathe, took exactly one normal breath, and burst out laughing again.

"Not- I don't know about Red, but. Some people laugh when they go into shock, or because of trauma, or just. Because." Castle kicked the ground awkwardly. "Or maybe he's tired and found something mildly amusing. Seriously. Does he sleep?"

"Yes," Matt huffed out, trying once again to calm down.

"No," Karen and Foggy corrected.

"One of those. Or all of those. Who fucking knows?"

Karen leaned forward to try to help Matt, and something akin to jealousy stabbed through Foggy's gut.

Ugh, feelings.

Wait, that was a Matt thing to say, and if Matt would do it, it's probably not a good thing to do.

But what did he have to be jealous of? Of course Karen would like Matt. Hell,  _ Foggy _ liked Matt. Oh. Oh, shit, he did  _ not _ just think that in front of the guy who could pick up on every little quirk someone's body made. Nope. This was not happening, and he absolutely was not thinking about how cute Matt looked trying to stifle a laugh, even if he looked like he was going to murder someone while actually laughing. Besides, Matt wouldn't like a guy like Foggy,  _ if _ Matt liked guys at all. Karen was steady enough to be good for him, but not so harmless and he wouldn't be interested. Foggy was just… Foggy.

He reached over and winced at an actual stabbing pain in his side. Frank took one last glance at the group, something wistful flashing through his eyes, and walked out.

He returned around when Matt finally calmed down for good. Mostly.

"So, the plan, Red."

Matt would stifle a laugh every so often, but he managed to get through the plan without another laughing fit. Karen (and Foggy, after he healed) would work on research, finding leads and connecting them, and Matt would take to the streets and…. investigate. Which was absolutely not code for "beat the shit out of people until they talk."

"After you get some sleep," Karen insisted, already dragging the giggly lawyer out the door.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but everyone present knew if he genuinely didn't want to, she wouldn't have made it three steps with him.

She shot him a glare that would make any seeing person wither instantly. As it was, Matt cowed and gave no further argument.

Once the pair made their exit, Castle wondered aloud, "How does he know? Can he smell it or something?"

"Probably," Foggy joked. Maybe he didn't like the company, but at least he wasn't alone. "Smells like a raging inferno, lavender, and gunmetal."

Castle snorted and glanced away awkwardly.

They spent the hour it took for Karen to return much in the same way; one of them would say something stupid, the other would return in kind, and one or both of them would chuckle or snort.

"You're all idiots," Frank (were they on first-name terms yet?) muttered under his breath when Foggy joked about how they were all going to die by the time this was over.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"Both of you, shut the fuck up," Karen snapped as she stormed in once again, a bit more disheveled than she was when she left.

Both men in the room immediately jumped to different conclusions, Foggy becoming the embodiment of a teenage girl and Frank shifting into one of his overprotective moods.

"I'm fine, and  _ no, _ there was none of whatever you were implying." She ran a hand through her hair. "It's chilly out, so I ran a little faster than I should have and tripped."

Foggy sighed before asking, "Are we all in agreement that Matt's going to run off and do his own thing by the time this is all done?"

The silence told him all he needed to know.

"Great. Anyone got any secret ninja skills they want to share about now?"

Frank turned and pursed his lips. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"So you can put a bullet in him when his back is turned? No thanks, pal."

"I know I've done nothing to earn your trust-"

"Damn right you haven't-"

Karen glared at Foggy.

"-but Red's done more than enough to earn mine." Frank paused. "He's good for this place, in his own way."

"The Punisher, a  _ pacifist? _ What's next, you have a dog?"

"Yeah. His name's Drew."

Foggy decided to bite his fucking tongue before he ended up learning more about the Punisher than he wanted to. Sometimes, it was hard to remember Frank was just a guy who had a family, and now… he didn't. For all they knew, he might have had no one. At least Foggy had Karen and Matt. Well, usually Matt. Sometimes. When he wasn't playing edgy loner.

Did Frank just want a place to belong?

Karen was already nodding and informing him of places Matt would probably turn up at throughout the night, so did Foggy really have a choice?

"Red is, well, Red," Frank noted, rubbing the back of his head. "He'll hear me coming a mile away."

"So meet up and join him. Or don't. Blend into the crowd. Just… keep him safe, okay?" Karen rested a hand on his, and Foggy once again felt the familiar stab of jealousy.

He just had to fall in love with anyone who genuinely gave a shit about him. That's fantastic and not at all concerning, but hey, what's he gonna do? Seduce a man who's probably as straight as he is ripped? Steal Karen's heart when she has her eyes on much,  _ much _ hotter targets?

Nope, he wasn't playing that game today.

"I'll check on him tomorrow, make sure he takes care of himself," Foggy offered, forgetting his current predicament.

" _ I _ will check on Matt, and  _ you _ will stay right there," Karen corrected, reaching for the pain pump nearby.

Foggy grabbed her hand. "Just make sure he's okay, please?"

"Okay."

"And don't use the pain medicine as a sedative. I don't need a drug abuse problem on top of my best friend having a night job."

She laughed and leaned in for a hug. "Night, Foggy."

"Night, Karen."

When they separated, he stuck a tongue out at Frank's cooing faces.

Two can play that game.

* * *

 

"So, Mr. Devil," Peter started, munching on one of the sandwiches he'd brought from Delmar's and decided to share with his companion.

_ "Kid, I couldn't-" the devil murmured, avoiding eye contact. Or maybe he just couldn't see Peter well. Yeah. That made sense. There weren't any eye holes in the scarf-thingy, and it didn't look very see-through. _

_ "Mr. Devil, I have plenty of sandwiches for myself, and you look like you could use a good meal." _

_ "I eat just fine," he grumbled. _

_ "C'mon. Do you like anything specifically?" _

_ He paused before sniffing in the general direction of the sandwich bag. "Is that meatball?" _

_ "Yeah! Do you want it?" Peter grabbed what he thought was a meatball sandwich from the bag he carried and offered it to the devil. _

_ He sniffed again and reluctantly accepted, fumbling with the packaging for a moment before giving up and ripping the paper like a Christmas present. _

The devil grunted and turned mostly toward Peter.

"Do you know anything about… dating?"

Daredevil grunted again, the corners of his mouth twisting up in a smirk.

"So, there's this guy-"

He immediately leaned in and swallowed his mouthful of sandwich, heavily resembling a teenage girl hearing the latest gossip.

"-and I like him a lot, and he's sort of my best friend, but I also like our other friend a lot too, even if she does call us losers-"

He snorted and waved Peter on.

"-and, like, I care about them a lot, but I don't know who, I, like, like-like? And I'm also afraid to ruin our friendship if it's N- the guy, but I'm also just afraid of the girl?"

The devil, who at this point was biting back what counted for him as laughter and had plentiful education in memes and teen-speak from the spiderling, murmured, "Mood."

"Is there a way to tell?"

"...Probably?"

Peter chuckled. "Have you ever been in this predicament?"

"Once or twice." The devil rubbed his wrapped hands together before resting them on the warm remainder of the sandwich.

"So, how did you figure it out?"

"I don't think I ever really did until… she died. The second time."

"Second?"

"You know how it is. Murder cult ninjas with mind-control blood transfusions and a substance that can raise the dead and all."

"...No, I really  _ don't _ , Mr. Devil."

He shrugged and continued, "After she died the first time, I was pretty sure I loved her. Maybe a little more than I should've. Missed her a lot. Then, she came back to life, and… We sort of died together, except I somehow lived."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's over. I'm done with my edgy phase now."

"Could've fooled me," Peter joked, gesturing at the black outfit.

"They're warm, okay? And you can't see the bloodstains as well." The devil licked his lips, decided that was a horrible idea in the chilly winter weather, and covered his face. "Well, I found out that I could live without her, but it sucked. A lot. Still does. But love comes in different forms. With her... We were driven by adventure. But my colleague? I think I like his safety. He feels like home. But then our other colleague is somewhere in the middle, chasing mystery, but doing her best to come home at night."

Peter smiled. One, Daredevil wasn't a bigoted asshole (not that it mattered much, but it was nice to know he was a decent person), and two, he'd opened up about his own dating troubles. "You're leaving something out."

"I have trained you well, young padawan." He shoved another mouthful of the meatball sandwich in his mouth, probably to avoid answering.

"You haven't trained me at all, other than telling me you're basically a walking lie detector and you like meatball subs."

"It's learning by observation."

"Mm-hmm." The spiderling cocked his head. "You and Mr. Stark do the same things to deflect."

The devil hummed.

"You change the subject, do something with your hands, and make yourself unavailable to talk."

He hummed again.

"Are you going to tell me what you're leaving out?"

"Thanks for the sandwich." He turned to leave.

"Wait!"

He paused, half-off the building.

"Would you? You know, train me?"

The devil cocked his head and smiled. "Sure, kid."

"Where should we meet? And when?"

"I'll find you. Don't worry."

And find Peter, the devil did.

The spiderling yelped as Matt knocked on the window.

"Ready?" He sniffed. "Is that a textbook?"

"Yeah. How did- You aren't-"

"They use a certain coating for book pages, and they're thinner than a normal book. I can smell six different people on the book itself, and there's notebook pages rustling from the fan."

" _ Dude _ ," Peter whispered.

"Is your homework done?"

"Now you just sound like a dad."

"That sounds like no." Daredevil waved him back to the desk. "How much?"

"I should be done in a few minutes."

"Great. I'll wait here."

After about two minutes of guiltily glancing back at the window, Peter opened it and half-dragged the man in black in his window.

"This doesn't look suspicious at all," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

"This isn't the weirdest thing that's happened. Besides, May knows."

"May?"

"My aunt."

"Lilac perfume?"

"Yeah."

Matt hummed, sniffed, and cringed a bit.

Without the guilt gnawing at the back of his mind, he finished his homework quickly and actually managed to get a coherent thought in. "How did you find me?"

"You smell."

"Rude."

"I mean- not in a bad way. You smell like certain chemicals, and you have a slight bit of your aunt's perfume on you. Your suit hums, too. It's in your ceiling. Something electrical inside?"

"Lots of electrical things inside. It's got a heater, an AI, a parachute…" Ah, yes, the parachute he still hadn't reloaded.

The devil hummed.

"So, if you've seen my face-"

He huffed in amusement.

"-does that mean I get to see yours?"

"No."

"Aw."

"Suit up and follow me."

The pair flipped and swung through the streets of New York, Peter waving to locals as he passed. By the time they'd passed through Manhattan, though, he'd stopped getting waves and started getting glares.

"It's not you, it's me," the devil growled, ignoring their stares.

"Why?"

"Public opinion is easily shaped and not so easily unformed, especially when they think they have proof."

"I'll drink to that."

"No. You're underage."

"How do you know? Maybe I'm just a really small twenty-three-year-old."

"You live with your aunt, have homework from clearly school-loaned textbooks, and you sound like you're about twelve."

"I-"

"I don't want to know how old you are."

"Okay."

They arrived at an abandoned basement gym, where Daredevil just punched the window out of and opened the door.

"Isn't this breaking and entering?"

"I have an agreement."

"That lets you break the window?"

"I break in, and the owner doesn't look around or ask questions."

"That's illegal."

"So is vigilantism, and here we are."

Upon determining the spider-suit was not adequate for their sparring, he pulled out some hand wraps and told Peter to take off the suit.

"What?"

"You need to wrap your hands, and I don't think either of us want that suit damaged. It reeks of money."

"That's Mr. Stark's-"

"Take it off."

"Okay." Peter slipped out of the suit, took the wraps, and clumsily tried to mimic the wrappings on the Devil's hands.

He smirked. "You've never done this before."

"I've never had to."

He raised an eyebrow and offered a hand, which Peter gratefully dumped the offending strips in.

"It's like wrapping a broken bone." The devil had clearly never taught anyone anything before from his clumsy instructions. "...Your turn." He offered the other strip.

After a few minutes, Peter raised a hopefully-well-wrapped hand toward Daredevil.

"...Not bad for your first try."

The spiderling absolutely beamed, and something in the devil's face softened.

"Alright, Spider-Kid, show me what you've got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i said slow burn? i meant everyones a fucking oblivious idiot, like me @ everyone-style oblivious
> 
> laughing isnt, like, a 100% Standard Trauma Reaction but factoring in sleep deprivation, "haha my and my partners' law firm was just attacked," and matt not being okay in general, it made sense in my head and also its sorta what i do whenever something gets Too Much but not in a way that makes me want to cry? so yeet


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen can sense the shitstorm of a love quadrangle her oblivious coworkers-plus-one think doesn't exist. Foggy is worried. Matt has an idea. Frank thinks it's a terrible one. Peter is an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter kicked my ass
> 
> how to write:  
> -have a plan  
> -start with the plan  
> -realize the plan is missing something  
> -deviate from the plan  
> -whoops! there goes the plan
> 
> tw for mentions of/comparisons to child soldiers i guess? and implications/mentions of unsafe binding practices.

Karen was sick of these three idiots.

Matt may have been the most annoying, even if he could justify it any time she asked. He acted like a lost puppy around them, as if they would leave at any moment over something as stupid as his existence. Like, damn, Matt, do you really believe that? Even when he pulled on his Cool Collected Lawyer Persona™, he had ticks. The cock of his head, listening for any sign the others would just walk out the door. How he held a little too tightly when they guided him, as if trying to keep them from running away. Why? Why was he able to convince himself they would leave?

Frank was no better, and he even had another social group. He'd look away when Karen showed even basic acts of kindness toward anyone, stand a little closer than he should, and show up in places he didn't belong but acted like he did. Honestly, if they left, he'd brought it on himself. He just waltzed in and asserted himself in their friend group like he owned the place. Not that they were going to leave him, but still.

And Foggy, you stupid, oblivious, not-at-all-subtly-bisexual idiot. Just because Matt didn't know the pencil with a flap of paper on it Foggy kept throughout June was a makeshift pride flag didn't mean no one else could see it. Or the way he looked at Matt. Foggy would make up any excuse to avoid just talking to his emotionally damaged law-partner-slash-best-friend.

(Was it bad that Karen thought there was something sort of cute in the way the two acted together? Sure, Matt was clearly too stupid to notice that whatever he could smell on Foggy was directed toward Matt, but something about his smile only really became genuine when he thought Foggy was happy.)

Like, damn, Foggy. How can you not see that Matt would move Heaven and Hell for you if you so much as thought it? How can you not notice that Matt thinks you hang the stars in the sky?

And if she ever tried to ask Foggy, she figured he'd say something like-

"Why would he like me?" the oblivious man in question asked. "He's-"

Yeah, yeah. Tall, dark, handsome, gets all the girls, "probably" straight.

_ That's what I thought you'd say, you dumb fucking horse. _

And not even their three-way mutual pining-slash-fear-of-everyone-leaving could cover the way Karen guessed they thought of her.

It would take a special kind of stupid not to realize she was their happy medium. Sure, she'd shoot a bitch if she had to, but she didn't exactly like it. She could defend herself if necessary, but she was also safe. At least compared to the men stalking the streets, looking for danger. And for Foggy? She was just risky enough to be a taste of adventure. An easy way to dip his toes in the water instead of being thrown in face-first.

It was easier for her to ignore it. Okay, sure,  _ maybe _ she liked them back, but going for Foggy or Matt would just lead to the other being hurt. At least if she pretended she was interested in Frank (and, don't get her wrong, she  _ was _ interested), she could avoid hurting them too much. They'd bond over irritation at Karen's choice in men and be over it in a moment.

...right?

She realized she'd zoned out at her computer for almost half an hour just thinking about how absolutely  _ stupid _ men can be about their feelings.

She put the folder she had open in a desk drawer and asked, "Frank, wanna get some coffee?" Matt and Foggy wouldn't be back for another hour, at least, and she knew at least Matt would want some when they returned.

He shrugged and rose from the couch he'd been fiddling through some papers on. "Sure," he muttered as he stretched.

As they waited for their coffee order, Karen noticed a brunette woman trying (and failing) not to stare. She finally got up the nerve to approach and asked, "Are you Karen Page?"

"Yeah." Karen nodded.

"I'm Ariana Maclaren. Do you mind if I ask you some questions about the attack on your law office?" Ariana flipped a notebook to a clean page. 

"Go ahead."

"You were arranging a lawsuit against Freedom Insurance, correct?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything you can say about the case itself?"

"They've been, uh-"

"Get down," Frank murmured.

"What?"

"I said  _ GET DOWN! _ " he yelled again, tackling both women just before several bullets embedded itself in the wall Karen was leaning against.

The cashier half-dropped their coffees on the counter.

"Call 911!" he ordered, grabbing Karen's pistol from her purse.

Ariana acquired a revolver seemingly out of thin air and slunk toward the window. "Karen, they're after you."

"No shit, Sherlock!"

She turned to the cashier. "Take them through the back exit. Stay away from windows. Got it?"

The cashier nodded and held open the kitchen access.

By the time they reached the back door, the cashier was shaking so much she could hardly stand.

"Take cover behind that wall, okay?" Frank whispered. "You'll be okay."

"Free coffees next time, yeah?" she offered with a weak smile.

"Sounds good." He smiled back and nudged her toward the wall as he stepped outside.

His smile faded, and he cocked Karen's gun.

"Frank?"

The faint shouts of "Clear!" from the NYPD echoed through the alley.

"Frank, let's go find Matt and Foggy." She tugged at his arm, but he didn't budge. "Frank?"

He pushed her back and led her into the streets.

"Frank, come on. Let's go back to the office." She took back her pistol and gently led him away.

By the time they got back, Matt, Foggy, and Ariana had gathered in the office.

"Oh, thank God!" Foggy breathed, rising to meet Karen with a hug.

Matt, needing to keep up the blind lawyer schtick, asked, "I take it she made it here alive and intact?"

"Yeah, they both did."

Matt rose and reached blindly for the nearest arm to "guide" him. Frank rolled his eyes and took the job.

"Maybe I should take your statements later?" Ariana suggested, already gathering her belongings.

"That would be appreciated." Matt gave her his most charming smile. "Thank you, Officer Maclaren."

Karen cocked an eyebrow.

"Apologies for the deception. I've been working with Detective Mahoney and these two to get the case straightened out, and Mr. Murdock suggested that you might be wary of police after…"

After Fisk. After he took over the entire damn FBI and most of the NYPD without lifting a finger.

"Well, thank you, Officer," she croaked, not wanting to think about it.

Officer Maclaren smiled and showed herself out.

When Matt decided she was a suitable distance away, he cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Frank-"

"You know what I mean."

Yes, she knew.  _ How are you doing? Need a therapist? _ She settled for, "I'm fine," and hoped it was true enough.

Judging from his expression, it wasn't.

"Did they come after you and Foggy, too?" she asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

He nodded. Foggy huffed indignantly. "So that's why you took the long way there!"

"We need a plan of attack. They know who we are, and that puts us in danger." Matt cocked his head for a moment. "What have you found, Karen?"

Karen wished they hadn't left the coffees back at the café. She fumbled for words before sputtering out, "It's a subsidiary company of a subsidiary of a subsidiary. I haven't traced it back all the way, but the oldest surviving parent company I've found is in Queens. Wright Marketing." She glanced at the file still half-open on her desk.

When she left, she'd put it in a drawer.

"Matt, did any of you go through that file?"

"I can't see."

"I- You know what I mean."

Foggy shrugged. "Wasn't me."

Matt muttered something about being used as a bloodhound and sniffed the air. "I don't smell anyone."

"Did Officer Maclaren go through it?"

Foggy shook his head. "It was already there and open when I walked in."

"Are you sure you didn't just leave it out?"

"I saw her put it away," Frank noted.

Matt whispered, "They know who I am."

"I'm sure they're just-"

"I can smell Frank on Karen's gun. Anyone who didn't know wouldn't just  _ not have a scent. _ "

"Maybe it's a copy?"

Matt cursed. "Karen, what kind of soap do you use?"

She shot him a look of incredulity. "What-"

"Maybe they aren't scentless. Maybe they copied yours."

"That's creepy."

"Anything you use: soap, shampoo, perfume, the works. Make a list." He tried to drag Frank along. "C'mon, Castle."

He refused to budge. "Where are you going?"

"I know a guy there."

"Who?" Karen asked innocently.

Frank glared at the hand on his arm.

Foggy smiled. "The guy who knows Iron Man?"

She decided it wasn't worth asking and settled back at her desk.

* * *

 

"So, if I can see his face, and you two can both see my face, and he's seen your face, can I see your face?" The kid ("Call me Peter!") dodged another punch blindfolded and followed up with his own kick, which the so-called devil blocked. Peter had insisted on being blindfolded as long as Red was, and neither of them had the heart to say no. It turned out neither of them needed to worry, either. The kid easily kept up without his sight.

"No."

"I get it, really! But I doubt I'd recognize you."

"If you recognize him," Red jabbed a finger toward Frank, "you'll probably recognize me."

"Is there something shorter than Mr. Daredevil I can call you?"

"Red," Frank called as Matt said, "Literally anything else."

"Okay, Mr. Red!"

"Why are we dragging the kid into this?" Sure, the kid was enhanced, but he was a  _ kid. _ He pulled his punches, he smiled and joked and still believed in the world.

"He'd be involved the moment he heard, anyway."

It hit Frank that Matt and Peter weren't that different. Both of them had seen the worst of the world and still foolishly believed in the best. Sure, Matt was a bit more jaded, more  _ careful, _ but he never truly believed anyone was irredeemable.

He blocked a punch, and the resulting  _ crack! _ echoed through the gym.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Daredevil! Are you okay? How badly did I break it? Should I-"

"I'm fine," Red grunted, throwing another punch with his good hand that Peter didn't dodge in time. "Get up."

"Isn't he a little on the young side?"

"I'm almost eighteen," Peter grumbled, deftly dodging the next flurry of attacks thrown his way.

"Eh, he's fine."

"He's not even old enough to sign his own permission slips!"

"I've been in this since I was ten. He's fine."

Frank wanted to strangle Matt. Instead, he asked, "Are you two okay?"

"I'm fine," they both insisted.

After a few more rounds of sparring, Peter ripped off the makeshift blindfold and whistled. "How do you do that?"

Matt smiled.

"Does he know-"

"That it's very hard to see through this?" he cut in, likely to stop the whole  _ OMG, you're blind? _ thing. "Yeah."

"Why don't you uncover your eyes?" Peter innocently asked.

Matt twitched. "They freak people out."

"I'm sure your eyes are just fine! What, are they a weird color or something? That would be awes-"

"Drop it, kid," Frank interrupted. He didn't know why Matt was insecure about his eyes, of all things, but they're his eyes. Not Frank's.

"Sorry." The kid wiped some sweat off his face. "Mr. Punisher?"

"Frank."

"Sorry, Mr. Frank."

"Seriously. Just Frank."

"S-" Frank glared, and the kid cut off his apology. "Why do you kill people?"

Frank wasn't expecting  _ that. _ "Uh."  _ Ah, yes. The epitome of eloquence. _ "They were bad people. Weren't gonna stop being bad with a slap on the wrist and a wave goodbye."

Peter pondered that for a moment. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"I feel gross. At least changing my shirt is a start."

_ Fair enough. _ Frank turned around.

"Pete, you're recon and surveillance only," Red said. "Do not engage."

"What about you?"

"I think they know who I am." He reached up as if to run a hand through his hair, then dropped his hand when he touched the mask. "I have to lay low for a while. Work on the ground. Meet here again when- you'll know."

"What if I get it wrong?"

"Then I'll know and come meet you, anyway."

Peter hummed and announced, "You can turn back around now."

They turned back and-

Wait, what?

"Red, you know the kid's-"

"Can you guys  _ not _ -"

"Yes."

"He-"

"What am I gonna do, rip it off him? I can tell him it's unsafe all I want. It doesn't change anything."

"I'm right here, you know-"

"I'm not as educated as I should be," Frank grumbled, "but I'm pretty sure most people know not to wear something that can  _ damage their ribcage _ when they're already at risk of getting  _ broken ribs. _ "

"His ribs are fine. I would've stopped if they weren't."

"Can I go home, now? I have to be home by midnight, and I've already missed curfew once this week."

Oh, fuck, he's a  _ kid. _ What was wrong with them for bringing him into this? What was wrong with Stark, actually? He  _ encouraged _ this!

At least the kid's suit was basically programmed to keep him alive?

"Go home, kid." Red waved him away. "Keep an eye on Wright Marketing for us!"

"Will do!" Peter declared before dashing out at superhuman speeds.

After a few minutes, Matt said, "He's out of earshot. Spill."

"This is a horrible idea."

"You're telling me."

"It's  _ your _ idea!"

"That doesn't make it good."

"He's a kid."

"Yeah."

"We're putting a kid- No,  _ you're _ putting a kid in danger!"

"Hm."

God, Frank could strangle that idiot sometimes. "He could die!"

"What's left of the Avengers gets notified if he so much as gets a scratch. He'll be fine."

He made a noise somewhere between a screech and a grunt. "Why?"

Matt huffed in amusement. " _ Tony Stark _ couldn't stop that kid. The least I can do is make sure he doesn't break his arm throwing a punch."

Ugh. "Fine. But he  _ only _ does recon and surveillance."

"That's the plan."

"The horrible plan filled with more holes than both of us combined?"

He smiled. "That's the spirit!"

Frank really could strangle him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i establish trans peter already? i think i did. im pretty sure i did. i dont actually remember though so uhhh trans peter yeet
> 
> also N E V E R bind while doing exercise or anything you need full breathing range for. peter is an idiot and knows its bad but... dysphoria sucks. not having dysphoria but also not being as comfortable in your body as you know you could be sucks. dont be peter hes an idiot child


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up. Mahoney is shocked. Karen's a smartass. So is Foggy. Frank's tired. Matt processes the Not Good Kush. The author isn't a complete angst monster for once in his life. (Just a slight one.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha so funny story i literally sat here for like however long its been staring at a blank document and then a few weeks ago i pumped out half of this and burnt out for another few weeks and repeated until it was done
> 
> on another note, *gently bangs fists on table and whisper-yells* dad matt! dad matt! dad matt!
> 
> TW FOR PAST CHILD ABUSE, THE AUTHOR BEING A HORRIBLE PERSON AND FINDING THE DUMBEST THINGS FUNNY, AND, LIKE, Y'KNOW STANDARD DAREDEVIL STUFF.
> 
> i can't unsee matt and tony just yelling about the stuff they do here so now you have to see it too theyre like little baby tumblr discoursers
> 
> also when will the romance happen? ~~never~~ when i get my head out of my ass and figure out how to relationship except not me because its time to never ever have another relationship ever again so i cant fuck up any more good things in my life

"Get up," Matt grumbled at the sleepy spider-kid. "Team meeting."

He rolled over and squinted at the clock. "It's two in the morning."

"And?"

"I have school."

"You'll be back soon enough." Matt gave up on rousing Peter naturally and simply scooped him up.

"Hey!" He tried to wiggle out of Matt's grip, but the borderline exhausted child was currently no match for a lawyer. "What if May checks on me?"

"...Leave a note, then. I don't have time to mess around."

After leaving a note and putting on some clothes, Peter finally managed to haul himself out the window and into the streets of Queens.

The area was quiet, he said. Sure, there was the usual hustle-and-bustle of drunks and criminals, but he couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary for New York. Businesses were closed down, offices darkened, and from this corner, you could almost pretend to see the stars.

But as they crossed into the devil's territory, his senses were soothed. This was familiar, here, now, and while he didn't  _ technically _ need Peter's help in Queens, Hell's Kitchen was Matt's. He knew every inch of this neighbourhood, every nook and cranny, every alley or corner. The crime was worse and more frequent, but it was  _ his  _ the way Queens was  _ Spider-Man's _ .

It really was a quiet night, he figured, arriving at Karen's apartment (designated "neutral ground" between "El Avocados Tres", Frank, and Mahoney) without hearing so much as a cry for help.

Peter climbed in the window and froze. "There's a  _ cop. _ "

"He's with us." Matt snatched his glasses off the coffee table out of reflex before he set them back down. The limited number of blind men associated with Foggy and Karen aside, it wasn't like anyone would  _ notice _ with the mask on. "He's fine."

Mahoney's eyes must have popped out of their sockets. "You're recruiting  _ children _ now?"

Karen ruffled through some papers. "Remember when some asshole tried to hijack a plane and Spider-Man stopped him?"

"What's that got to do with- Oh, you've got to be fucking with me."

"Hi, I'm Peter."

"God damnit."

They went over the bits of information they'd gathered.

Neutral ground. No major fights here. Well defended, all things considered. What happened in Karen's apartment would stay in Karen's apartment if they had half a choice.

It was the perfect place for someone looking for intel to stalk them.

Frank, Karen, Foggy, Mahoney, and Peter took up the various furniture and floor space inside, so it wasn't just an anxious guest.

Matt sniffed again, making sure the scent of lilacs wasn't just his imagination. "Someone's outside."

Peter walked toward the window, far enough back that he shouldn't be seen but close enough to see for himself. "Looks like a woman. I'm guessing mid-50's? She's got something in her hand. A… cell phone?" After a moment, he scrambled back and ducked behind a couch. "That's May. Oh, I am  _ screwed. _ "

"I'll explain-"

"She's calling Mr. Stark. There's  _ no way _ she isn't calling Mr. Stark."

"Peter-"

"He's gonna take the suit away!"

Matt ripped off the mask. Not that the kid noticed.

"What am I gonna say, 'Oh, hey, I bumped into Daredevil one day and he sort of started training me and now I'm actively collaborating with him, the Punisher, a handful of lawyers, and a cop'? He's gonna take the suit and he still has my other suit and then I can't-"

"Peter." Matt crouched and tried to look the kid in the eyes.

"I can't put May or Ned or MJ or anyone in danger! I can't just make another suit, though!"

"Peter!" He might have finally made eye contact. Peter stopped rambling and simply took a few shallow, hiccuping breaths. Oh, Lord, those were tears. He's crying. He's really crying. Ugh, feelings.

And now he's going for a hug. This is fine. Really. Matt absolutely wanted a hug from a tearful, scared kid.

Fuck, Peter's just a  _ kid. _ Older than Matt was, sure, but a kid nonetheless.

Frank snorted when he figured out the horror on Matt's face wasn't just from being hugged.

"Shut up, Castle." Foggy shifted over. "Let him process it."

Oh, God,  _ Matt _ was just a kid.

…

It was fine, though. He was… difficult, he thinks. He wouldn't get out of bed-

_ That wasn't entirely your fault, _ the part of him that's tired of holding onto the guilt said.  _ You were sick. _

Yes, he was sick. His senses overloaded from the slightest word, touch, smell, so much so that he couldn't get up in the morning. Stick was the doctor. He fixed Matt.

But Stick didn't… He didn't fix  _ Matt. _

It was fine. He was overbearing, anyway. He wasn't good enough. He got too attached to people.

Peter turned his head and rested his ear against Matt's chest. He absentmindedly rubbed the kid's back.

Matt got too attached. Just like he was now. He liked having friends, as much as he was afraid of what would happen. He liked having a place to rest his head (even if he didn't use it often) and somewhere to get cheap booze and someone to protect. That's what Stick couldn't train out of him, and that's why Matt had it coming. That's why he-

"What's wrong?" Peter murmured.

If Matt's heart stopped, he wouldn't be surprised.

"You're upset." The kid tapped the shoulder. "Am- Should I go?"

Matt pulled the spiderling closer. "No. It's not you."

Stick had to be right. He was Matt's mentor, almost his father figure in that time. Sure, they fought (well, more like  _ sparred _ ), but it wasn't like he was bad.

"Wait for it," Foggy whispered. Asshole.

But here Matt was, comforting a child who'd gone through Hell and back without half of the training Matt needed and used on a daily basis. He'd heard about the plane crash, and the media-dubbed "civil war," and many other things Spider-Man and Avengers related. Everyone had. But… kids aren't supposed to fight wars.

Maybe he was a kid, once upon a time.

"There we go."

He couldn't process this right now. Into the box it goes! Something landed on the sidewalk, and he figured it was as good a distraction as any. "Someone's here."

A few moments later, someone angrily buzzed the doorbell.

Karen, already by the intercom, answered, "Who is it?" in the sweetest voice she could muster.

" _ You have my kid _ ."

"He consented."

"Mostly," Matt clarified. 

"You're not helping."

" _ What did he- I don't want to know, okay? His aunt's on my ass, and if you don't want her personally ending all of us, please let me up. _ "

"Or?"

" _ Or- To whom am I speaking? _ "

Matt yelled, "The fucking Punisher!"

Peter giggled in his lap, and Matt pulled him closer. Man, this kid gave him… heartburn?

Frank called out, "Satan!"

Note to self: stupid shenanigans easily cheer Peter up. Matt never wanted to stop hearing him laugh. God damn it, one of them deserved to keep being a child.

Karen, joining in the joke, yelled "A crooked cop!"

"A corrupt lawyer!" Mahoney shot at Foggy.

"And a fake news journalist!"

" _ I hate you all." _ Matt caught scuffling noises and a half-whispered threat outside.  _ "Do you know- Fuck! Please let me up. _ "

"He's being mugged."

"Well,  _ Satan _ ?"

"I have my hands full. Besides, he's handling it just fine."

" _ Please just let me in. _ "

Karen finally buzzed him in with a giggle.

When Tony Stark stormed into the apartment, blood tinging the air, everyone immediately turned to Matt.

"What did I do?"

* * *

The room heated at least two degrees. Maybe Karen's heater finally kicked in. Who knows?

Stark hastily wiped his bloody knuckles on a handkerchief, and Matt remained hopelessly oblivious to how alike they seemed.

"You guys weren't kidding, huh?" 

Karen stepped forward, protecting the vulnerable and unmasked vigilantes clinging to each other for dear life, but it was Matt who spoke.

"He's just a kid."

Stark raised an eyebrow. "I'm aware."

"You sent him to fight in your big dick contest."

"That's certainly one way to look at it."

"What else are we supposed to think?" If not for Peter sort-of physically restraining Red, he might have fought Stark then and there. "Do you think those laws would only affect you? The moment you dragged him in, they applied to him, too. Within a few years, they'll apply to every super-powered individual the government can find."

"Which is why we needed in on the ground floor. I'd like to be in the room when they're negotiating the permanent restrictions. Let them tell me to my face that I can't save the planet from destruction."

"People are already avoiding hospitals and anything that could even  _ possibly _ lead to their DNA being collected and tested because of this! People won't take blood tests or get proper medical treatment because they're scared! They're afraid of what will happen to them if-"

Frank had enough of that conversation. "Red."

"-they're discovered! Have you ever found a child bleeding out, barely conscious,  _ begging _ you not to take them to the hospital? Have you ever had to worry about what would happen if the word got out that you are who you are?"

Karen gently backed Nelson away from Matt, who had mostly escaped his sticky restraints and gone into cross-examination mode. Peter clung to his side like a koala.

"What did you think would happen if you got in on the ground floor?"

Frank shot Nelson a look that hopefully looked like  _ stop him _ and not  _ I'm going to kill you, now. _

"I thought at least the Avengers could have a say in the process of drafting and amending the permanent implementation."

"And do you happen to know the proposed name of the  _ permanent implementation  _ you mentioned?"

Stark matched the lawyer's gaze as well as he could, given that Matt wasn't quite looking at him. "I've heard rumors."

"And what do those rumors say?"

"Objection. Hearsay." Nelson approached the angry devil and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, buddy."

"He's damned a kid! He's damned Danny and Jessica and Luke and-"

Nelson gently shushed Matt. "No lawyering when upset."

He hesitantly nodded. When Nelson stepped back, Matt smiled and asked with false politeness, "Would you like to take this outside, Mr. Stark?"

Karen stepped between them. "What do you want?"

"I want my kid back."

Peter, if anything, clung harder to Matt.

"You sent an untrained child into the field to fight a war he doesn't fully comprehend-"

"I want to stay here," Peter whimpered in the smallest voice Frank had ever heard.

Red pulled the kid closer and rubbed his hair, seeming oddly paternal for a guy who, only a few seconds before, was ready to throw down with an Avenger.

The doorbell rang again.

Stark glared. "That'd be his aunt."

Karen buzzed her up with significantly less fuss than the cranky billionaire and stepped back to her position guarding... whichever one didn't attack first, probably.

After a short introduction and reluctantly transferring Peter to his aunt, May, everyone had calmed down enough to talk like almost-civilized adults.

May asked, "Why do you need him?"

Matt stopped pacing and whipped toward the group. "We need intel. He's the closest."

"He's a child," Tony pointed out.

"When did you notice that, before or after he got an airport dropped on him?"

"The moment things got dangerous, I benched him," he growled.

"It was only a ramp," Peter defended weakly.

May rubbed his back soothingly and snapped, "Stop fighting. You're upsetting him."

"What do you even need intel for?"

Foggy snapped, "We need intel because as soon as we took a case for an insurance claim, ninjas and other assorted fighters of the  _ thankfully _ not immortal variety broke into our office and tried to kill us, and our only line of defense was a fucking vigilante with the worst luck possible."

Frank decided that was a good time to whisper, "No mask, act blind." Okay, maybe it was a  _ bit _ late for that, but it's the thought that counts?

Murdock pulled a cane out of who-knows-where, "blindly" tapped his way over to Stark, and decked him.

Literally everyone except Stark yelled either, "Matt!" "Red!" or "Mr. Daredevil!"

"I probably deserved that at some point," the victim of Matt's assault grunted.

"He. Is. A. Child." Matt punctuated each word with a harder-than-absoutely-necessary poke.

"I'm 17," Peter defended weakly.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"I can drive!"

"Where, the Midwest?"

The kid winced and shut up.

After a few moments of silence, the aunt butted in, "It's his decision."

"Uh, no," Tony and Matt announced in sync.

"Uh,  _ yeah. _ "

Tony scoffed. "He makes poor decisions. Until he stops going on  _ suicide missions- _ "

"I want to do this," Peter whispered.

The room went silent.

"I want to do this," he announced, louder. "How long until it's someone in Queens or- or  _ May _ ? How long until it's no longer just one person and a handful of lawyers? Which is still one and a handful too many, but..."

Matt beamed, and Tony reluctantly looked somewhat proud of the kid.

"Then it's settled," May declared. " _ However- _ "

They worked out some ground rules. No going into fights against armed people alone; backup at least had to be on the way. No more turning off the suit's cameras, vitals monitors, or trackers. He'd train with Matt and/or Frank (mostly Matt, though) twice a week and Tony on Saturdays. (When the billionaire complained, May pointed out that he'd have much more time on a Saturday than after school.) No torturing, severe maiming, or killing while Peter was around. You know, the usual stuff when you let your kid get adopted by a handful of lawyers, vigilantes, and Avengers.

Frank figured this was going to end in disaster, but hey, at least the kid would have backup? Who was he kidding, this is a horrible plan that'd probably scar him for life. Well, no one else came up with anything  _ better _ (like  _ doing the exact same thing without the kid _ ), so whatever, he guessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY FYI, I DONT SUPPORT CHILD ABUSE OR ANY OF THE OTHER FUCKED UP SHIT IN THIS CHAPTER. ITS FUCKED UP. ITS ALSO A REALITY OF THE MCU.
> 
> matts coming-to-terms is /r/me_irl ngl
> 
> also i heard the netflix-mcu isnt considered part of the MCU. screw that, itll always be a part of the mcu in my heart.

**Author's Note:**

> [i post updates and the occasional meme on my waterfall.social: starks](https://starks.waterfall.social)


End file.
